


jump right in

by pearl_o



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub, Domestic, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: On the ice Yuuri never had to think about it. It felt natural. Adding it to their sex life takes a little more thought.





	

The first time Victor brings it up, Yuuri can’t quite keep his voice from going a little high pitched. “Like…leather and whips and things?”

Victor appears to actually give this a great deal of careful consideration before answering with a decisive “no. That doesn’t sound very fun.”

“Then what…?”

“If you wanted you could order me around sometimes. Let me do things for you.” Victor touches his mouth but Yuuri thinks it’s just his tic when he’s thinking seriously, not trying to be sexy. “You do it sometimes already when you’re skating, in front of everybody. I like it.”

“I like it too,” Yuuri says after a moment, because if Victor is being honest and talking about things, he has to too. Those are the rules now.

On the ice he never had to think about it. It felt natural. Everyone wanted Victor but Victor only wanted him; no one else could have him, and Yuuri could show it to everybody with no effort at all.

This is a little different, somehow. 

He spends a couple days considering it, turning it over and over in his mind. Victor doesn’t press it, but Yuuri knows he’s waiting for Yuuri to be the one to bring it up again.

He’s reading on the couch after dinner when Victor and Makkachin get back from their evening walk.

“We’re back!” Victor proclaims as he shuts the door behind them. “Did you miss us, Yuuri? We missed you!”

“You were only gone a half hour,” Yuuri says fondly.

Makkachin trots off to the bedroom, ready for a nap, presumably. Yuuri watches Victor unwrap his scarf and shrug off his heavy coat to hang up.

Yuuri sets his book down beside him and sits up very straight. “Victor?”

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

Victor comes without a moment of hesitation, stopping to stand between Yuuri’s legs. He smiles down at Yuuri sunnily. Yuuri can’t help but smile back.

Yuuri remembers how it feels everytime he pulls on Victor’s tie, when Victor brushes his hair or laces his skates or rubs his feet. Yes. All right. He takes in a steadying breath and says, “Kneel.”

Victor kneels. Yuuri presses his knees against Victor’s torso like a cage; Victor braces himself with his hands on Yuuri’s thighs.

“Good,” Yuuri murmurs. Victor’s face is lit up, watching and waiting. When Yuuri presses his thumb against the seam of his lips, Victor opens up without having to be told, nipping at the tip and then sucking Yuuri in.

He doesn’t take his eyes off Yuuri, not even for a second.

Yuuri leaves his thumb there for a minute. Letting Victor play, letting him show off all the things he would be doing if this actually were a blowjob.

Yuuri feels hot all over, and he thinks he must be bright red already. His skin feels like it’s covered with pinpricks.

He pulls his thumb out, and Victor moves forward to follow him, just an inch before he stops himself.

Yuuri takes another deep breath in through his nose and counts to five. He leans in and sets his hand on the back of Victor’s neck.

Victor’s eyes are dilated as wide as Yuuri’s ever seen them. “Yuuri,” he says, trailing out the word with quiet longing.

Yuuri doesn’t have enough control to keep from kissing him right then, but he pulls away again as fast as he can manage, ignoring Victor’s soft moan.

He looks down between them. He’s not surprised to see the bulge of Victor’s erection pushing out against his slacks.

Yuuri bites his lip. “Unbutton your fly.”

Victor does it, graceful hands working at the fabric.

“Let me see you,” Yuuri adds, and Victor lets out another soft noise and pushes down his underwear and lets his dick spring into sight.

The self-consciousness is there, whispering at the back of Yuuri’s mind, telling him he’s embarrassing himself or being ridiculous--but it’s drowned out by the sense of satisfaction he feels, the sheer giddiness in his chest at watching how Victor responds to him.

Yuuri says, "Now touch yourself."

Sometimes Yuuri feels like a fraud. Sometimes he knows that he’s ordinary, nobody special at all. And yet--

And yet Victor looks at him like that. Nobody else in the world gets to have this, Victor Nikiforov gorgeous and eager and happy in front of them.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuri says. His hand’s still clasping Victor’s neck; he strokes his thumb over the nape and feels Victor shiver. “I love you.”

"Love you," Victor echoes, his voice all breath. His arm's moving quickly in a heavy shuddering rhythm, and the slap of his hand against flesh seems so loud in the room.

Yuuri slides his hand from Victor's neck down to his chest. Victor's wearing one of his shirts with the deep v-neck that shows off his collarbone all day. It's easy, if a little awkward, for Yuuri to move his hand down under the collar and settle his palm over Victor's heart.

"Can you come?" Yuuri asks softly.

Victor shuts his eyes and immediately forces them open again, focused back on Yuuri. "Yes?" he says, and then more firmly: " _yes_ , Yuuri."

Yuuri's mouth is dry. He has to clear his throat before he can speak again. "Okay," he says, "go ahead and do it."

The last word's barely left his mouth before Victor is letting out a bright, shattering cry. Yuuri looks down quickly from Victor's face in time to catch the sight, the thick white fluid pulsing out into Victor's hand.

Victor's posture has been perfect this entire time, but now that he's done he slumps forward. Yuuri moves back on the couch to make more room between his legs, and Victor turns his head to rest against Yuuri's thigh as he catches his breath. Yuuri pets his hair, feeling vaguely light-headed.

"Oh my," Victor murmurs after a minute. He grins up at Yuuri. "Yuuri, that was good."

"Yeah?"

"So good," Victor promises. "Do you want me to suck you now?"

"Um," Yuuri says. "No, just--come up here, okay?"

Victor presses a kiss to Yuuri's knee and then stands up, kicking off his pants and leaving them on the floor as he climbs onto the couch into the space Yuuri shifts to create for him.

"What do--" Victor starts to say, but Yuuri doesn't let him finish. He curls his fists in Victor’s shirt and pulls him forward into a kiss.

Kissing is wonderful, and great, and perfect, but it's also--not enough, Yuuri thinks, he needs more, needs to be touched. Victor's hand is on his face, cupping his cheek with terrible sweetness. Yuuri grabs that hand with his own and pulls it down between them. 

Victor's fingers clench, feeling out the shape of Yuuri's erection through the layers of fabric. "Oh, _Yuuri_ ," he says, and then the two of them are kissing as they try, in unwieldy fashion, to unfasten Yuuri's pants together.

Even after they've managed to get him free, Yuuri keeps his hand atop Victor's, guiding him in every stroke. Yuuri's so close already, even though he's barely been touched. Victor's other hand slips up under his sweatshirt when Yuuri's distracted, plays with Yuuri's nipple. Yuuri bites Victor's lip in response but Victor only laughs, directly from his mouth to Yuuri's. 

Yuuri comes what feels like embarrassingly fast; much faster than usual, anyway. He has the urge to apologize about it, but by now he knows how Victor reacts to that, so he manages to resist.

They cuddle on the couch for a while in the afterglow. They're both mostly clothed still, which Yuuri can't help but find very funny. Yuuri's pants are going to need to be changed soon, though, as Victor managed to wipe the mess from both of them there on the same leg.

Victor's hand is still up Yuuri's shirt, idly stroking along his ribcage. Yuuri presses a kiss into Victor's hair.

"Amazing," Victor mutters under his breath. 

Eventually, Victor disentangles himself and sits up, running a hand through his hair. He looks around the room and then stands and begins walking to the kitchen--still in his underwear, but there's nothing unusual about that, really, Victor walks around in his underwear all the time. After a minute Yuuri can hear the clatter of the kettle being filled and put on to boil.

Yuuri forces himself up off the couch as well. He heads to the bathroom, to wash his face and hands, and then the bedroom, to grab a loose pair of pajamas from the dresser drawer and change. Makkachin is lying in the middle of the bed, snoring gently. Yuuri reaches out and scratches the place he likes behind his right ear, and even in his slumber Makkachin makes a pleased huff.

Yuuri standing there gazing at the bed for much longer than he really needs to. Next time, he thinks, next time he and Victor do this type of thing--yes, the bed. Victor spread out across their entire bed, and Yuuri will stretch him open and make him feel good and make him shake and they will see how long Victor can wait for it…

Yuuri can feel the slight blush rising on his cheeks, annoyingly. But it's a good idea, and he tucks it away for later, before he goes back out of the room to join Victor for tea.


End file.
